


jedi protector

by MavenMorozova



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, F/M, Literal Sleeping Together, NO SEX!!! they're just sharing a bed lmao, One Shot, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Pre-Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Request Meme, Sleeping Together, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, forced bedsharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24481483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi are sent to protect Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore. Sexual and romantic tension ensues between the duchess and young Jedi.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	jedi protector

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grapeyoda](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=grapeyoda).



> 300 followers celebration for my Star Wars sideblog (@aniidala): prompt–forced bedsharing, for @grapeyoda.  
> ah yes, a wonderful trope. this takes place when obi-wan and satine first meet, in-universe. perhaps a little unrealistic but it’s fanfic what can one expect?

Obi-Wan took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, forcing himself to take control of his feelings. Instead of dwelling on the emotions swirling inside of him, he took in his surroundings, his present being, forgetting all thoughts of the past and future, just as he’d been trained. At the moment, the young Jedi padawan was standing beside his master; Qui-Gon was gently stroking his beard, an action that Obi-Wan found slightly soothing.

They were standing in the open air of a landing pad on Mandalore, here to assist the extremely young duchess, who was facing difficult opposition from the alt-conservative faction...and that group, as Obi-Wan had learned, was willing to go far to execute their goals. Including killing the duchess herself, Lady Satine Kryze.

Obi-Wan shifted impatiently as he waited beside Qui-Gon, the slight wind lifting the lighter ends of his plain robes. The two of them were to serve the duchess for as long as was necessary, and Qui-Gon had given this assignment to his padawan, and he himself would only assist. The whole situation made Obi-Wan even more nervous; not only was he tasked with protecting an important galaxy leader--the leader of a  _ planet _ \--but he was also testing the waters for operating on his own terms, as his own Jedi. Qui-Gon was sure to be extra careful in monitoring and observing him.

“Master, when will she arrive? The duchess?” Obi-Wan asked his master serenely. His mentor didn’t answer for a moment, appraising him from the corner of his gaze. “Patience, padawan,” he finally said, a small smile appearing on his face. “She’s a busy woman.”

Obi-Wan nodded; he knew that Qui-gon was right.

It wasn’t long after that a Mandalorian guard came to fetch them, beckoning the two Jedi to the throne room, where a young human woman, perhaps eighteen or nineteen standard years, sat perched nervously on her seat. Obi-Wan first noticed how beautiful she was; the duchess had a long face and thin nose, which tapered at fine, pink-tinted lips. Her hair was pulled up into an array of blonde curls, and she wore a fitted purple headdress adorned with jewels. After a moment, Obi-Wan noticed he’d been staring and quickly averted his gaze, attempting to no avail to cool his flushed face.

Luckily, Qui-Gon did not seem to notice. The older Jedi bowed politely to the duchess, and Obi-Wan followed suit.

“Greetings, my lady,” he told her, stepping towards her and motioning for his apprentice to follow. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn.”

The duchess smiled genuinely at them, her head tilted to one side. “Thank you, Master Jedi,” she said, stepping from the dais and striding towards them, her shoes clicking on the translucent tile. “You are here to serve as extra protection?”

“That would be Obi-Wan Kenobi, my padawan,” Qui-Gon said graciously, waving his hand towards Obi-Wan. “He’s well-trained in this sort of thing. I am here to observe. And of course, to help your ladyship if any harm approaches.”

At his words, the duchess’s eyes fell upon Obi-Wan, and he felt his face flush again. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”

She correctly interpreted his awkward expression, and what could only be called a smirk crawled its way onto her pretty countenance. “And you, Obi-Wan.”

The use of his first name made him flinch in surprise, but what else was there for her to call him? Surely not ‘Master Jedi’ or the like. And no one called padawans by their title, anyway. He nodded once in a slightly jerky fashion and took her outreached hand, kissing the back of it gently.

***

That night found the three of them gathered around a banquet table, guards surrounding them and watching them eat. Obi-Wan felt distinctly uncomfortable at the formality of it all, and with all the years he’d spent with Qui-Gon, he could tell that his master was, too. The duchess, on the other hand, wore a pleasant expression as she dug her fork primly into her food, her other lithe hand cutting through the slice of meat on her plate with a silver knife. She had such fine features...and admitting that was certainly not against the Jedi code, Obi-Wan could admit.

“We should discuss sleeping arrangements,” the duchess announced, interrupting his thoughts. “I think that it would be wise for Obi-Wan to keep watch in my chambers, while Qui-Gon sleeps next door.”

The nearest guard, who Obi-Wan now took to be the captain, stepped forward, expression stoic and unmoving. “Yes, Lady Satine,” he agreed. “However, your Jedi protector will need sleep, no?”

“Of course,” the duchess replied, gaze turning to stare at Obi-Wan. “He can simply share my bed if he gets tired. It’s too large for me, anyway. And then,” she added, “he will be right there if anyone chooses to attempt an attack.”

From across the table, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon raise a single eyebrow, scrutinizing the duchess with shrewd eyes. “Jedi are forbidden to form attachments,” he told her slowly and carefully, each word infused with clear meaning.

The duchess smiled, gaze tearing away from Obi-Wan and landing on Qui-Gon with utter calmness. “Of course, Master Jedi,” she said. “That’s why it works perfectly.”

“And is my apprentice...fine with this arrangement?” he asked, locking eyes with Obi-Wan, who nodded slowly. “Whatever the duchess wishes,” he said.

“Wonderful,” she said, clasping her hands together. “That’s settled, then!”

They finished eating in relative silence, the only sound being the occasional comments made by Qui-Gon and the noises of forks and knives clicking against the porcelain dishes. Then they headed off to each room, Qui-Gon giving Obi-Wan a comforting expression and pat on the shoulder as they separated. “Goodnight, Master,” Obi-Wan said in response.

Obi-Wan stood in the antechamber as the duchess prepared for bed, only entering when she called for him. He stepped into the bedchamber and had to stifle a gasp; the duchess was wearing naught but a nightgown, which of course was usual, but it was thin and fitting, and Obi-Wan had to look away quickly to stop the heat that was slowly creeping through his body.

The duchess, noticing his discomfort, said nothing, only cast him a dazzling smile. “Well, Obi-Wan, you’re welcome to get some sleep. Or you can stand there all night. It is your choice, and I would not dare to make it for you.”

But she had, she truly had. As if she was using some Jedi mind trick, Obi-Wan felt himself being inexplicably drawn to the plush bed, sitting on it cautiously as the duchess pulled the covers over her shoulders. He hesitated a moment, then faced her, brows scrunched in worry. “Please, my lady, this really isn’t appropriate.”

“I insist,” she said, eyes boring into his. “And please, you may call me Satine.”

He tested the syllables of her name under his breath, unwilling to say them allowed yet. “I really can’t, my lady. It would be best if I sat here and kept guard.”

“Please lay down,” Satine replied softly, ignoring his words. “No one will try to kill my with you beside me.” The phrasing of her words sent a pleasant chill down Obi-Wan’s spine, and he rolled her shoulders and neck, brushing off an invisible irksome  _ something  _ that he couldn’t quite name. “Is that an order?”

Satine paused a moment and blinked slowly, her eyes heavily lidded as she settled in for sleep. “Why not?” she said casually, patting his arm. “Remember to take off your shoes.”

Obi-Wan groaned, but he wasn’t truly upset. And he had goaded her into saying it, besides. He shucked off his Jedi-issue boots and unpinned his cloak, finally removing the outermost layer of his robes and leaving a soft, off-white undergarment behind. He settled in comfortably beside her, making sure to leave a wider distance than was necessary. He still had his lightsaber on him, and as there was no belt to clip it on, he held it in one hand, tucked safely under the plush comforter.

It still, of course, took him a long time to fall into sleep. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but sense Satine’s warm presence beside him, and every so often, one of her smooth legs would brush against his clothed ones. When this happened, he flinched--badly, the movement nearly waking Satine.

In her sleep, he saw that her blonde hair, which she’d unpinned before getting into bed, was spread out on the pillow, and her long, petite-featured face shone in the moonlight that filtered in from the lone window. It made her hair and skin look even paler, as if she was some sort of phantom, and it was purely ethereal; Obi-Wan could not think of another word for it.

He laid his head gently down, and turning it, found that her hair had spread into what he’d designated to be his space. His first thought was to brush it away, but afraid of disturbing her, chose to ignore it instead.

But he couldn’t ignore it. Satine’s hair was soft and fine, just like she was, and it smelled of carefully selected oils and fresh cleansers. It brushed against Obi-Wan’s bare chin, and he felt a tickling sensation that made him smile. With the serenity of the entire situation, Obi-Wan felt himself fall into sleep, not even minding at all.

He woke to a rustling beside him. Satine had moved closer to him--far too close. One arm was draped over his chest, and her legs had somehow gotten entangled with his. He didn’t even dare breathe for fear of waking her and discovering herself in this position. Surely, she’d had some sort of dream where she imagined that he was someone else...or it  _ could  _ have been intentional. Either way, Obi-Wan didn’t care to find out. He gulped and did the only thing he could.

Pushing his lightsaber with his foot down towards the end of the bed, he shimmied his newly freed hand out from under the covers and placed it upon Satine’s, relishing the cool softness of it. To his surprise, Satine did not wake, and so he eventually closed his eyes again. Fast asleep, Obi-Wan did not notice the small smile that curved upon her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! comments & kudos are much appreciated<3


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